7

It was past suppertime when I left the Dead Man’s place. The shadows were long and indigo. The sky was turning colors you usually see only in elvish portraiture. It had been a long day, and there was a lot of it yet to go.

The first order of business would be to see the Dead Man’s landlord and get him a few months ahead on his rent.

I’ll buy the place for him if I ever make the big strike, though he could do that for himself if he wanted. It would, however, take several months of concentrated work for him to earn enough money. The very thought sends him into psychic spasms.

Next step would be to look up Morley Dotes, which I’d had in mind even before the Dead Man admonished me against following my usual lone-wolf course. He was right. The Cantard is no place to go alone.

A massive hand hurtled out of an alley mouth, snagged my arm, and yanked.

Sometimes the city isn’t so safe either.

I slammed into a wall and slid away from a fist I sensed more than I saw. I threw a feeble right that was just a distractor while I unloaded a girlish shin kick. The mountain of muscle and gristle before me waltzed back far enough for me to take in its true dimensions. They were awesome.

“Saucerhead Tharpe.”

“Hey, Garrett. Man. If I’d knowed it was you, I’d never have taken this job.”

“Shucks. I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“Aw. Don’t be that way, Garrett. We all got to make it the best way we know how.”

I caught a glimpse of a familiar short person watching from across the street.

I dragged out a fat purse containing part of the largesse her uncle had bestowed upon me earlier.

“Hey. Come on, Garrett. You know you can’t bribe me to lay off. I’m really sorry this’s got to be you and me. But I got paid for the job. Where would I be if it got around that I could be bought off? I’d be out of work. I’m very, very, sorry, Garrett. But I got to do what I got paid to do.”

I had expected no luck, but it had seemed worth a try.

I said, “I’d be the last guy to ask you to welsh on a deal, Saucerhead.”

“Gee. I’m glad. I was scared you wouldn’t understand.”

“I want you to do a job for me, Saucerhead. There’s five marks in it.”

“Yeah. I’d feel a whole lot better about this if I could do something for you. What is it?”

“That woman across the street. The one that sicced you onto me. When we’re done here I want you to take her down to the Bazaar, strip her down naked, bend her over your lap, and give her thirty good whacks on the backside. Then turn her loose and let her walk home.”

“Naked?”

“Naked.”

“She wouldn’t get out of the Bazaar, Garrett.”

“There’s another five in it if she gets home all right. But without finding out you’re looking out for her.”

Saucerhead grinned. “It’s a deal, Garrett.” He stuck out a palm the size of a snowshoe. I dropped five marks into it.

Saucerhead’s hand dipped into a pocket. I hit him up side the head with the purse. I put everything I had behind it. Then I ran like hell for two steps.

He gave Rose her money’s worth, fulfilling his contract to the letter.

I tried to defend myself, of course, and actually did pretty well. Not many hang in there a whole minute against Saucerhead Tharpe. I even gave him one he might have remembered for the next ten minutes.

Always thoughtful, is Saucerhead Tharpe. After he put my lights out he tucked my purse underneath me, just in case somebody came along before I woke up. Then he went along to the next job on his agenda.



Garrett P.I. #01 - Sweet Silver Blues
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